Blanka Ardezo
by FantomoDrako
Summary: AU Every ghost in the world, along with some humans, are slaves. Daniel, a half-ghost, has been a slave ever since he was a baby. He's accepted his lot in life, but the girl his job is to guard wants to fill in the blank slate his mind now is.T to be safe
1. The World is Black and White

**A/N:** I'm back! And with a brand new fic! I'm also working on a DP one-shot that I haven't finished yet. This is an AU fic. Yes, the plot's been done before, but that's exactly why I did it myself. I enjoy a challenge. I'll try to stay as original as I can, like with my DP/HP crossover **Phantoms, Powers and Prophecies.**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DP, but I do own Anthony. If I did own DP then I wouldn't be waiting for the DVDs to come out in Region 4 – Australia.

"Speech"

_'Thoughts'_

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><p><strong>Chapter One: The World is Black and White<strong>

The world was divided. There were aristocrats and minimum wage earners, pets and wild animals, masters and slaves, and ghosts and humans. Why such a division existed was a mystery, although those in power would not change the status quo. Humans, for some unknown reason, found it much easier to go through life with such societal unbalance.

This way of life seemed to work well in Amity Park. The place was ghost central and where the vast majority of ghosts were captured and sold.

Ghosts were considered slaves. Some were used for menial and/or distasteful tasks such as cleaning. Most became guards, watching over their masters or something specific such as an item or place. A scant lucky few became maids or butlers or some form of personal assistant.

Even though there was not one free ghost, there were also human slaves as a lot of people did not like ghosts. Human slaves rarely became guards, so most of them ended up as unpaid servants. But, human or ghost, the life of a slave was virtually the same.

Daniel sat in a cage that was just large enough for him to stand in and wide enough that his fingers touched both sides if he held his arms outstretched. The human boy was quite young, only fourteen, with pale skin and messy black hair that fell over crystal blue eyes. His clothes, a pair of slightly scuffed light blue jeans, a dirt-smudged white t-shirt with red edging on the sleeves and neck and a red oval on the chest, along with red and white sneakers, were a bit worn and dirty, but otherwise in relatively good condition.

He had to at least look presentable.

Daniel, or Danny as he secretly preferred, had been a slave ever since he could remember. He had long ago given up trying to fight against the way the world worked. He pitied the slaves, ghost or not, that still had a small bit of hope in their eyes. Danny knew how horrible it felt to have that hope crushed again and again until one finally gave up. He stared unblinkingly through half-lidded eyes at the metallic cuffs that encircled his wrists.

Every slave wore cuffs. Blue cuffs were worn by humans while green was worn by ghosts. That way, even if the ghost took on a human appearance, its ghostly nature would never be hidden.

Footsteps and muffled voices caused him to look up. Before long, he could make out what the voices were saying as they slowly moved closer to where he was.

"I can't say I was all that impressed by your collection back there," a woman said in a haughty tone.

"I agree. I do hope this exotic section of yours is more promising," a man replied, his tone easily matching that of the woman.

"I assure you, you will not be disappointed."

Danny knew that voice – it was the man in charge of the slave pens. His name was Anthony Rogers, though the slaves were only permitted to call him 'sir' or 'master'. He was a man of medium height with broad shoulders and he carried himself with a certain air of importance that came from the whip he constantly carried on his hip. The whip worked on all slaves, as he had only to press a button and the whip would become charged with ectoplasmic energy that allowed ghosts to feel the stinging bite of every lash.

"What is this?" the unknown man asked. They had evidently stopped to examine one of the cages.

"Ah, this is a rare one indeed! She's quite nice to look at for a ghost, isn't she? That's not the best part however. This ghost can grant wishes and can fulfil any of her masters' desires," Anthony declared with the air of a salesman.

The woman sniffed. "She looks like an Arabian harlot," she said scornfully.

"I apologise if her unseemly appearance offends you, Mrs. Manson," Anthony said in a sincere tone.

Mrs. Manson simply huffed and continued slowly on her way. Her husband followed her, both of them looking left and right for anything that caught their eye.

The footsteps suddenly stopped again. "You have a ghost dog?" Mr. Manson asked in disbelief.

"Why yes," Anthony answered. "He's very well trained and can increase his size and ferocity tenfold. You mentioned looking for a guard of sorts I believe?"

"I am not having that filthy creature anywhere in my house!" Mrs. Manson spat scornfully, eyeing the glowing green dog with revulsion.

Anthony nodded knowingly. "Then you are looking for a humanoid guard? Why don't we continue? I am sure you will find something to your liking."

This time the footsteps stopped close by. Danny shifted so that he was facing the front of the cage in full view though he bowed his head, letting his raven locks cover most of his face.

"Hmm... This one looks somewhat decent at least. Doesn't look like it can guard anything though," Mr. Manson said critically.

Anthony smiled. "Not now she doesn't. This one used to be a princess."

"Is that the only reason you stuck her in your exotic section?" Mrs. Manson asked.

"Now, now, Pamela dear, let the man finish."

"Thank you. The reason she is in this section is that amulet around her neck. Do you see it?" He received two nods, so ploughed on. "That amulet allows her to become a dragon. Not just any dragon, the full works; large, winged and capable of breathing fire. She would make a good housemaid and guard."

"What do you think Pamela?"

"I don't know Jeremy. She's not going to be much use if she has to turn into a giant lizard to do her guard duties. I like my house in one piece, let's keep looking."

The three were only a few feet away. They came into Danny's view though he had no what the couple looked like as he only saw them from the knees down. The woman had shiny white high heels that looked expensive and her husband wore shiny white dress shoes.

He heard the woman sniff. "I didn't think you'd have any humans in this section. What's so special about_ him_?"

Anthony just grinned. "This is by far the rarest and most exotic slave we have. I'd wager the whole world actually."

"Oh? And why is that?" the man, Jeremy, asked in a way that clearly said 'get on with it'.

"Look," Anthony replied eagerly. He grabbed a black baton, exactly like the ones used by police, and hit the cage bars with it.

Danny ignored the clang the impact produced and did as he was trained. Keeping his palms open flat, he raised both arms with his palms facing towards himself, giving them a clear view of his wrists.

The Mansons gasped while Anthony's grin only grew wider.

On Danny's right wrist was a blue metal cuff, though the one on his left wrist was green.

"This kid here is half human, half ghost. Not only is he good for the mundane everyday things, he makes a great guard. His ghost half packs quite a bit of power and I'd wager that he could take down most of the ghosts in here easily enough," Anthony said, clearly enjoying himself.

Pamela stared at him critically while her husband hummed thoughtfully. "He _seems_ to be well trained. How obedient is he? How many previous owners has he had?" she asked Anthony, though her gaze never left the boy in the cage.

Mr. Rogers tried not to let his eagerness show. They were clearly interested in the boy if they were asking such questions and the young hybrid was worth quite a hefty sum of money. "He's had two previous owners, the identities of whom I will not disclose under our contract of confidentiality. He is one hundred percent obedient – not a streak of defiance or rebellion in him I'm proud to say."

"If he's as obedient as you say then why did his two previous owners give him back?" Jeremy asked, casting a condescending glare at the hybrid which the boy didn't see.

"He was first sold when he was five. He was sold as a guard because the buyer thought no one would suspect a five-year-old child to be the security. The kid had little control of his powers back then, but everything went fine for a year or so before the buyer was stolen from. The thief didn't get the main prize the kid was guarding, which is a point in his favour I guess, but did make off with a couple of other valuable things. The buyer sold him back to us and bought an older, more experienced guard ghost."

Jeremy hummed again. "Since you said he had little control back then, I'm assuming that he no longer has any...control issues?"

"That's right," the pen master said while nodding. "Kid hasn't had an accident with his powers since he was eight. He's fourteen now."

Jeremy nodded, partially satisfied. "What about the second time?"

"The second buyer bought him when he was nine. Never bought him to be a guard, but didn't mention wanting the kid for anything specific either. Found the kid attractive I guess," Anthony said with a shrug. "Returned the kid a few months before he turned thirteen. The owner wasn't dissatisfied; they just said they'd outgrown the kid because they liked having children around the house as they had none of their own apparently."

"So he's been used as a personal slave?" Pamela asked, wrinkling her nose a little.

Anthony shrugged again. "I couldn't say. Kid was fine apart from a couple of scratches and bruises, but that's common. I'd be worried if a slave came back without some sort of mark on them, even something tiny like that. Put your arms down," he said, confusing the Mansons until they realised he wasn't speaking to them.

Danny immediately let his arms drop, resting his hands on his knees. Since he was sitting cross-legged, he looked a little like he was meditating. He was still looking down so didn't see the nods and looks of approval his swift, obedient actions gained from them.

"See, what'd I tell you? Real fine example of a slave this one. Ghost _or_ human. He's been a slave since he was a baby you see," Mr. Rogers said smugly.

"I don't like the fact that he's a boy... He's supposed to guard our house and, more importantly, our daughter. I don't want him getting any funny ideas," Jeremy said, still staring thoughtfully at Danny.

"Oh, no worries there. This kid won't do anything you haven't instructed him to. Unless your daughter orders it, he'll keep a respectful distance concerning personal matters like that."

"I don't suppose I could get a proper look at him?" Pamela requested.

"Of course, ma'am!" Anthony happily replied, sifting through the many keys on the ring at his belt. He plucked one away from its brethren and unlocked Danny's cage. "Front and centre, kid," he ordered calmly.

Danny swiftly rose and stepped out of the cage, stopping right beside Mr. Rogers and in front of the Mansons. He stood straight; making sure his shoulders weren't hunched at all, though he kept his head bowed respectively.

"Step forward," Jeremy suddenly said.

Danny, knowing the order was for him, took a step forward. The couple slowly circled him, looking for any defects or hint of injury or sickness. He didn't flinch or tense when Jeremy reached out and squeezed an upper arm.

"He looks scrawny, but I can feel some good muscle tone on him."

"Yes, he's a bit on the short side, but he looks healthy. Although he could certainly use a good scrubbing, especially his hair," Pamela added, her nose wrinkling again. She hooked a finger under his chin and forced his head up. "Look at me," she ordered.

Danny did so after a split second of hesitance. Slaves were never supposed to look others in the eye unless ordered to. Still, looking anyone else but another slave in the eye, even if ordered, was always a strange experience for Danny.

Pamela gasped as her soft green eyes caught his sky blue ones. "Oh, what pretty eyes!" she exclaimed softly. "I think he'll do perfectly, dear. He can go anywhere with our daughter as a human and instantly switch to a ghost if she's threatened. What do you think?"

"Yes, that does that sound perfect. I would like to see evidence of his half-ghost status beyond the cuffs though," Jeremy said firmly with a meaningful look at Anthony.

"Not a problem," the man cheerfully replied. "Transform."

Danny reached deep within himself to a core of cold energy. He tapped into it and let its power surge through him. A bright blue-white halo of energy appeared at his waist and split into two rings that vertically moved away from one another like repelling magnets. As the rings swept over his form, they left black, white and green clothing in their wake.

The red on his t-shirt had become snow white while the white turned black. A vivid green stripe ran vertically up both sides of his shirt from the bottom to the neckline, including his sleeves. A broad white belt was just visible below his shirt. His jeans had been replaced with three-quarter pants that employed the same style as his shirt: black with white edging along the bottom and a green stripe running up each side. His sneakers now resembled combat boots more than sneakers and had no laces. They too were black, with white soles and a green stripe that started at the front of his shoes, going from the sole all the way up the front of each foot. There was also a short green stripe up the back of each shoe from the sole, over his heels, to the top of the shoe.

Pamela hesitantly moved forward, admiring his once black hair that was now a pure white despite the fact that it needed a wash. She repeated her order to look at her and Danny complied. She gasped again at seeing fluorescent green eyes staring blankly at her in place of the beautiful blue. She stepped back next to her husband, both of them noting the glow that surrounded his entire body, instantly marking him as a ghost.

"I definitely think this will work. Well dear?"

Jeremy cleared his throat and glanced at his wife before settling his gaze on Mr. Rogers. "Yes, I agree. What is his asking price?"

"Well, a good guard ghost can easily set you back almost two thousand dollars. A good human slave can reach one thousand. Since this kid is pretty much the best of both, not to mention the only one of his kind, his asking price is five thousand," Anthony smoothly replied.

"That's a bit high for a slave, rare or not," Jeremy said with a frown. "How about three-thousand five-hundred? That's above the combined price of a good human and ghost slave."

Anthony shook his head. "Sorry, can't let him go for that. You're starting to give me a chill, kid, change back," he said, raising one eyebrow at the half-ghost.

Danny surrendered his ghost side, letting the rings appear and wash over him again, turning him back to his former appearance and dispelling the chill that had been slowly creeping up.

"Three-thousand eight-hundred," Pamela offered.

Anthony mulled it over for a bit. "Hmm... Nope, sorry."

"Four-thousand two-hundred," Jeremy said.

Anthony shook his head slightly. "If you're so determined to drive down his price then I can let him go for four-thousand five-hundred. No less."

The Mansons glanced at each other for several seconds before Jeremy nodded. "Deal."

"Excellent!" Anthony lightly exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "If you'd follow me then you can fill out all the papers right here in the office. Want the kid to come or wait in the cage?"

Pamela seemed to consider this. "Let him come," she said after several seconds of mental debate.

"As you wish. Want him on a leash? The kid doesn't need it, he's good like that, but it makes people feel more secure, you know?"

Jeremy cut across his wife before she could answer. "Yes. I'd rather not take chances."

"I completely understand," Anthony said, grabbing a small metal bar off his belt. He pressed a button on the device and it expanded horizontally. "Hands," he ordered.

Danny raised his arms again, holding them straight in front of him about a foot apart. Anthony slapped the device down across his wrists. It instantly lit up with harsh pinkish-red energy that drew both metal cuffs together. Anthony moved the device and, by extension, Danny's wrists, up to the hybrid's neck. A flash of energy emitted from the device and a beam of the same pinkish-red energy encircled his neck and cuffs, binding his wrists to the circle around his neck.

Anthony moved the device away and handed it to the Mansons, heedless of the line of energy that now ran from Danny's neck to the device like a retractable dog leash. "Here you go," he said cheerfully. "Instructions on how to do that are included among the papers if you're wondering. Shall we?"

Danny's blank blue gaze returned to knee height as he silently followed his new masters.

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><p><strong>AN:** Yeah, short chapter, I know. The next will be longer hopefully. Although considering that I wrote this in two days I may keep them short so I can update faster...

What do you guys think? Do you want short chapters that get updated fairly quickly? (Within a month on average.) Or do you want longer chapters? (Each one may be updated sporadically within the span of three months or so.)

I'm sure you can all guess which ghosts the Mansons looked at before reaching Danny. :3

Let me know what you think so far. Also, if you let me know of any clichés you'd like me to avoid, that would be great! I aim to please, though this story will still follow what I want it to. If you want more DP from me, keep an eye out for that one-shot I mentioned. It will hopefully be done soon. (It's already over 14 pages long. XD)

~FantomoDrako


	2. Come Into My Parlour

**A/N:** Yeah, check it out! How quick was this update? A lot of you seemed a bit surprised that this length is what I consider short. I used to think 1,000 words was long, but that's nothing to me now. Due to unanimous vote, I will keep the chapters 'short' so I can hopefully update quicker. It's working so far. XD (I guess it helped that I had a bet with Iymea to see who could update first... Go read her story Diversity now!)

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing trademarked by Nickelodeon or, more importantly, Butch Hartman.

"Speech"

'_Thoughts'_

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Come Into My Parlour, Said the Spider to the Fly<strong>

When the Mansons had stood in front of his cage and he saw their shoes, Danny guessed they were rich. When he saw their car it only confirmed it. If the car hadn't been enough then the house would have given it away for sure.

Danny didn't think he could really call it a house; it was more of a mansion, though not the largest one he'd ever seen. It looked nice, as most mansions do, and well kept. He vaguely wondered how many it took to upkeep as the car pulled up at the front door.

The chauffeur opened the door to the limousine and the Mansons exited the vehicle. Jeremy tugged lightly on the leash that still bound Danny and the boy followed without a sound. The chauffeur closed the door behind him.

"Take a good look, Daniel. You will be guarding all of this and I expect you to do an exemplary job," Jeremy stated with one stern glance at the slave.

'_Danny,'_ the half-ghost automatically corrected in his mind, though he would never dare utter such a thing aloud. Doing as he was bid, he let his eyes roam over the large building and what gardens he could see, taking note of possible hiding places and points of entry that a thief might use. It was the basic training drilled into every guard slave's head. Bushes and windows were useless if the thief was a ghost, but the likelihood of that was marginal at best.

He could see security cameras hidden here and there but he knew guarding this place would be tricky anyway. It was huge with many holes in its defence. He definitely had his work cut out for him and the house was only one of the things he was supposed to guard. Danny hoped the Mansons' daughter was a cooperative, well-behaved girl. It would make his job easier if nothing else.

"Shoes off," Pamela ordered the moment they stepped inside.

In typical teenage style Danny used the toes of one foot against the heel of the other and levered both shoes off. Without prompting he put them on the bottom of the shoe rack he spied next to the door, well away from the several pairs on the top and middle.

Jeremy raised one brow but just shrugged, deactivating the leash device. Pamela eyed his still-tied shoelaces with distaste. She would have to correct the boy about that later. She called out for someone, though Danny noticed she didn't call loud enough to be considered rude. "Sammykins!" she called again, a little less patiently.

Danny, arms now hanging by his sides, took the opportunity to examine the interior as he did with the exterior. Expensive looking things littered the place as far as he could see and every non-carpeted surface was shiny with that newly polished and cleaned look. There was a staircase off to one side of the foyer with a shiny, carved wooden handrail and plush red carpet on the stairs.

A few moments later a girl appeared at the top of the staircase and Danny's eyes immediately dropped to the floor. "Now what?" the girl asked in an irritated tone.

Despite the anger that sprinkled it the voice sounded nice enough. Danny figured the daughter wasn't a young child then. She sounded like a teenager though he was finding it hard to guess her age from just those two words alone.

"And how many times have I told you not to call me by that ridiculous and degrading name?" the girl continued.

'_Definitely a teenager.'_

Pamela worked very hard to keep a frown off her face. "Now Sammy, dear, please don't be like that, especially today. We bought you a gift, sweetie," she said in a sweet, sugary voice. She stepped to one side and waved her hands with a little flourish towards Danny.

There was utter silence for a long, tense moment. Danny, from his pitifully small amount of knowledge of the girl, was expecting an angry shout. He was surprised when all he heard was a low hiss of, "_Excuse_ _me?_" His eyes caught the tiny movement of both Mansons shifting somewhat nervously.

"He's going to guard the house," Jeremy said, "but only when you're here as he's your personal bodyguard and assistant." He made a helpless gesture with his hands, uncaring that Danny's leash device was still being held in one.

The girl noticed and her amethyst coloured eyes instantly narrowed into slits as she glared fiercely at her parents. "You got me a _slave!_" she ground out with pure venom coating every syllable.

Pamela put her hands on her hips and frowned at her daughter. "This is for your own good. We worry about you. You're always out and about-"

"Who knows where with your...friend...inviting all sorts of trouble," Jeremy cut in. "We just want you to be safe."

Sam continued to glower, turning her attention to the teenage boy. He looked about her age, a little on the short side, with clothes that would benefit from a ride in a washing machine. He stood straight, though she couldn't see his face as his long fringe of messy black locks hid it from view.

Jeremy ignored his daughter's dark look and turned to the boy. "Now I want you to start guarding my daughter. You are to follow her everywhere except the bathroom. If she does go into a bathroom, then I want you to guard the doors and windows. Not only for her safety, but she will try to sneak out if possible and it's your job to prevent that. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Danny said in a monotone.

"Good, then go," he ordered.

Danny stepped forward and started up the stairs, keeping his eyes down in front of his feet. He could feel the heat of the girl's glare on his form as he approached her. Danny was suddenly glad that he was not allowed to look her in the eyes.

"I can't believe this..." Sam muttered before angrily stomping off, headed for her room. Danny dutifully followed her. Upon reaching her room she debated about slamming the door in his face but decided against it with a sigh. It wasn't his fault and she had no right to take out her anger on him. She shut the door behind him with a little more force than was strictly necessary before walking over to her bed and sitting on the edge, putting her face in her hands.

Danny stood a foot away from her door and off to one side so he wasn't obstructing it. He studied his shoes, idly wondering if he would be able to wash them here, along with the rest of his outfit.

Sam slapped her hands on her knees before crossing her arms. "So, what's your name?"

"Daniel, ma'am," he answered in that same monotone voice she heard him use earlier.

"Daniel? Really? No last name?" she asked, intrigued.

"No, ma'am."

She sighed again. "You don't have to call me that, you know. I hate the slave practice and I hate my parents for getting me, and you, involved. Just call me Sam," she said with a smile, letting the anger fade from her expression. She was still seething inside.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, ma'am."

Sam tilted her head and frowned lightly. "What? Why not? And can you stop looking at the floor? I want to talk to you as a person, not as a slave."

Danny's eyes widened the tiniest bit at this turn of events and he swallowed hard, afraid of the retribution disobedience would bring and afraid of the retribution if he obeyed. He'd heard of people like this from other slaves. They seemed nice, caring and sympathetic at first, though they either gradually soured over time or suddenly turned nasty. The last person to own Danny had gradually soured towards the boy until he had been sold back and Danny had no wish to repeat the experience. He hesitantly raised his head until he was looking at her bed.

Sam rolled her eyes. "I meant look at me."

Danny shut his eyes for a second before complying. Light blue crystal met amethyst and both teens blinked at the sight. The slave took the opportunity to swiftly look the girl over so he would have a better impression of her to work off.

Sam seemed to be around his age. She had short black hair that hung down either side of her face with a small ponytail at the back that stuck upright and was tied in place with a green band. The only makeup he could see on her face was a light coat of purple lipstick a shade or two darker than her eyes. She wore a black sleeveless top with a purple oval in the centre of the chest, much like his own shirt, that showed off her midriff. She also wore a black skirt with checkerboard lines of bright green over a pair of purple stockings that ended in heavy looking combat boots. The footwear impressed the half-ghost. Around her slim wrists were black bracelets that reminded Danny of his cuffs.

All in all, she seemed like the personification of 'rebellious teenager', especially when he put her image next to her parents in his mind. This girl was sure to make his job difficult one way or another.

"You know," she said suddenly, breaking into his thoughts, "Daniel is a really stiff name. Do you have a nickname or something? And you never answered my question."

The urge to say 'Danny' flashed into his mind and was discarded just as quickly. "No, ma'am, I have no nickname. It is against the rules for a slave to address a master in such a manner," he replied, sounding like he was reciting a textbook.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "What if I ordered you to?" she asked in honest curiosity. She would never force him to do something like that, she simply wanted to know.

"I cannot address you as such. You have full right to punish me as you see fit for my disobedience."

It did not take much effort for Danny to keep his face blank as he said this. That rule was burned into the brain of every slave. Unless a slave was purchased for the specific reason of being a personal slave, they were not allowed to use any other form of address besides master, sir, ma'am or madam. The line he had just delivered was what all slaves were trained to say in the event that their master ordered them to use an informal form of address.

"Punish you?" Sam choked out in shock. "What for? You haven't done anything wrong!"

Danny stood silent, resisting the urge to look at his feet again. After a couple of seconds he said, "I have disobeyed an order. You said 'just call me Sam' and I have not done so." The urge to lower his gaze was becoming overwhelming but he fought it. She had told him to look at her and had yet to rescind that order.

Sam sat there stunned. _'What have they done to this poor kid?'_ She marshalled her thoughts quickly and tapped a finger against her chin thoughtfully. "Okay, don't worry about my name for the time being. Let's worry about yours."

The half-ghost was confused by this, but the only indication of it was a very slight tilt of his head.

"As I said, Daniel sounds so stiff and formal. You need something a little looser," she said with a small smile. "How about Dan?" The girl stood up and eyed the slave from head to toe. "Nah, Dan just doesn't suit you for some reason," she said with a shake of her head. "Okay, how about-"

A knock on the door interrupted her and her scowl instantly returned. She was about to yell 'go away' when the door opened, revealing her father. "What do you want?" she ground out instead.

Jeremy cleared his throat. "There was something else about the boy, but you stormed off before we could tell you." She raised an eyebrow and he took it as an invitation to continue. "You may have noticed that he's wearing one blue cuff and one green. This is because he's half-ghost, which is why we got him for you. You won't be embarrassed by walking around in public with a human and, if you're threatened in any way, he can instantly transform into a ghost to protect you. Now that that's settled, here's a copy of the instructions for his leash and the leash itself." He walked in, handed the silent girl a piece of paper along with the metal device the slave warden gave him and walked back out, shutting the door behind him with a gentle click.

Sam was trembling with barely suppressed rage and she scanned the page before walking to her bin and ripping it up into as many piece as she could, letting the tiny fragments float into the trash. A loud thunk indicated that the leash had joined its instructions. She muttered wrathfully, too low for Danny to hear, as she snatched up a purple backpack in the shape of a cute, fuzzy spider.

"I need out of this house and, since my parents have ordered it, you'd better come too. Unless you're going to try and stop me...?" she asked, halting and giving him a curious look.

Danny swiftly went over the orders Jeremy had issued. _'He only said to stop her if she tries to sneak out of a bathroom. Well, that's what it sounded like to me at any rate.'_ He shook his head. "No, ma'am, I'm not."

"Okay," she said slowly. "Come on then." Without further ado she opened her large window, hopped out with the skill of long practice, and started climbing carefully down the trellis that was just below.

'_I was right, this girl is a rebel,'_ Danny thought with a sigh as he followed her out, gently closing the window after he passed through. He skilfully shimmied down the trellis, landing cat-footed beside her. Her expression told him that she was impressed. She suddenly began to sprint. The girl was certainly fast, but he had endured guard training for years. He sprinted after her, catching up after she slowed a little a few blocks away.

Sam wasn't even the least bit winded. The moment Danny pulled level with her she started walking at a brisk pace. "You alright?" she asked over her shoulder.

"I'm fine, ma'am," he answered honestly. He wasn't winded either, as he had trained in his human form as well as his ghost form. He still preferred 'going ghost' when it came to physical exercise though.

She gave him a genuine smile, gesturing for him to fall into step alongside her. He did. "We're going to see my friend Tucker. I need some sort of sanity in this crazy world and, although I wouldn't exactly call him a normal person, he's a nice guy. He's a certified techno geek, so never try to separate him from his gadgets or he'll be totally useless until he can get his hands on another one."

Danny just nodded, feeling awkward and unsure. He sincerely hoped Mr. Manson wouldn't be mad at him for allowing Sam to leave the house like that. He was left alone with his thoughts as Sam let the conversation die.

Sam fished a cell phone out of her backpack and flicked it open; hitting one of the few numbers she had on speed dial while still walking. Her face lit up a few seconds later, so someone must have answered. "Hey Tuck," she said. "Can you meet me outside? I need my daily dose of sanity. Yeah, they are. I got some stuff to talk about, but I'll wait until I see you face-to-face. Nah, I'm about a block or so away. Yep, see you in a minute, bye." She snapped the phone shut and put it away.

True to her words, a minute later a boy came into view exiting a modest but nice house. He had dark skin, a dull yellow sweater, army green cargo pants, brown shoes and a red beret. Teal eyes behind black-rimmed glasses completed the nerdy look. The African-American boy gave Danny a curious look and a very brief greeting before turning to Sam. "Is this what you wanted to talk about?"

"Yeah. Tucker, this is Daniel. Daniel, this is my best friend, Tucker," Sam said, pointing to the appropriate person as the introduction progressed.

"Daniel, huh? You got a nickname or something?" Tucker asked, holding out a hand for Danny to shake.

"No, sir, I have no nickname," Danny said, transferring his gaze to the grey sidewalk in front of his feet. He felt rude for ignoring Tucker's proffered hand, but it was against the rules for a slave to be so informal in their greeting.

"Say what, dude?" Tucker blinked in confusion. He was now looking at Danny a little warily.

"Yep, that's my problem. Daniel here is a slave and my parents bought him to be my bodyguard," Sam said with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. She turned to the half-ghost. "Since Tuck's not your master or whatever, can you call _him_ by his name?"

"If that is what you want, I will do so."

"Whoa, you sound like a politician!" Tucker said with a laugh. "Well, a _lying_ politician," he added dryly. "Do you always talk like that?"

"It would be rude to speak in a less formal manner."

Sam crossed her arms and tapped her foot, waiting until she had the attention of both boys. "Okay, Daniel, I want you to call Tucker by his name. We'll work on getting you to use mine. Feel up to a bite at the Nasty Burger, Tuck?"

Tucker instantly perked up at this. "Are you buying?"

"Don't push your luck," she answered with a smirk.

Tucker simply shrugged. "It was worth a try." He easily fell into line beside the gothic girl as they walked off.

Sam turned her head and flashed Danny a smile, giving him a short wave. "Come on!" She nodded when he fell into step on her other side. "Have you ever been to Nasty Burger, Danny?" she asked. The nickname had been the one she was about to try out earlier when her father had interrupted. She thought it suited him rather well.

Danny faltered, missing a step. He caught himself, but the action had not gone unnoticed – the other two were looking at him strangely. The slave didn't care. His new master _'Sam,'_ he thought happily, had just used his preferred name. Whether she had stumbled across it by accident or not, Danny knew he was just happy to hear someone use it. He allowed a tiny smile to cross his face as he walked.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I know - not much excitement. YET. Wait for it. Anyway, let me know what you think! I hope you enjoyed it. Constructive criticism is always appreciated!

~FantomoDrako


	3. Fear Adds Flavour to the Soul

**Recap:**

Sam turned her head and flashed Danny a smile, giving him a short wave. "Come on!" She nodded when he fell into step on her other side. "Have you ever been to Nasty Burger, Danny?" she asked. The nickname had been the one she was about to try out earlier when her father had interrupted. She thought it suited him rather well.

Danny faltered, missing a step. He caught himself, but the action had not gone unnoticed – the other two were looking at him strangely. The slave didn't care. His new master _'Sam,'_ he thought happily, had just used his preferred name. Whether she had stumbled across it by accident or not, Danny knew he was just happy to hear someone use it. He allowed a tiny smile to cross his face as he walked.

**Disclaimer:** Oh, if I was as talented as Butch Hartman… Sadly I'm not, so here's my latest offering in homage to him.

"Speech"

'_Thoughts'_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three: Fear Adds Flavour to the Soul<strong>

The walk to the Nasty Burger was awkward for all three teens, though the light-hearted banter Sam and Tucker exchanged made things bearable. From what the half-ghost had been able to deduce the pair were almost polar opposites. How they'd even managed to become friends, let alone stay that way, was a mystery to the slave.

When they arrived, Tucker held the door open for Sam. He looked expectantly at Danny once Sam was inside and the slave realised that the boy was going to hold the door for him as well. It was a novel experience for Danny and he hesitantly went in, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on his shoes. He felt guilty for not being the one to grab the door in the first place and resolved to watch out for things like that in the foreseeable future.

Inside the Nasty Burger was noisy and crowded with teenagers milling about everywhere. Chatter, both dull and excited, created a constant buzz of background noise that was almost impossible to tune out.

"I'm getting a Veggie Veggie. What about you guys?" Sam asked as they joined the back of the queue.

"I'm having a Mighty Meaty Meal," Tucker replied, sniffing the air appreciatively.

Sam turned to Danny after a few seconds of silence. "Earth to Danny! What do you want?"

Danny had been trying to figure Sam out, wondering how she would react to anything he said. She seemed to take offense to anything he said that reminded her of his status in the world. He decided to test this theory. "Thank you, but...I'm...not hungry," he said, hesitating a little at the informal speech.

She raised an eyebrow and looked at him oddly. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," he said with a nod, biting back the 'ma'am' and hoping it didn't cost him.

Sam continued to stare for a few more seconds before she shrugged. "Okay, suit yourself," she said. Her eyes roved around the Nasty Burger and she frowned, tutting in disgust as what she saw.

Intrigued, Danny took a quick look around himself, wondering what she disapproved of. All he saw were normal people hanging around chatting about whatever they thought important. There were the typical societal divisions among the teenagers: jocks and cheerleaders, the middle people, geeks and nerds. As he watched, one of the jocks walked past a table where two nerds were sitting and knocked over one of their drinks. The jock laughed and walked off as the beverage spilled all over the poor boy and the seat.

A couple of the middle class teens had something akin to sympathy on their faces, but only the nerd's friend seemed upset about the unfair behaviour; the rest of the jocks and cheerleaders were all laughing nastily for a minute before the novelty wore off and they switched to a new topic.

He didn't get much time to dwell on this before Sam and Tucker were at the counter. They ordered quickly, grabbed their trays and found a table in an out of the way corner. Danny gingerly sat next to Sam as Tucker sat opposite, and focused on a partially scrubbed sauce stain that marred the table's otherwise clean surface. A cardboard packet of thin fries was shoved under his nose and he glanced up in shock, sky blue meeting lavender for a split second before Danny hastily averted his eyes.

"Just eat them. I've already paid for them and I don't want them to go to waste," Sam said, looking away awkwardly.

"Thank you," he replied quietly. The slave plucked one fry from its perch on top of the pile and took a bite.

Danny had never tasted anything quite like it. It was hot and salty. Hot meals were a rarity in his life along with any kind of seasoning, even salt. To have both in one go was a novel experience and it tasted _so good!_ He finished the fry as fast as he could without appearing rude and snatched up three more, forcing himself to eat them one at a time as he could feel Sam and Tucker's eyes on him. Finally, after what seemed like ages to the slave but was only a few seconds, the two turned their attention from him to each other.

"I take it you had a fight with your parents. Did anything get broken this time?" Tucker asked casually, raising an eyebrow.

"No, although I _did_ rip up the instructions for the slave leash my _dearest daddy_ handed to me. The leash itself was solid metal, but maybe if I threw it in a fire...?" Sam said before trailing off.

Tucker shook his head helplessly. "Try not to burn your house down, okay?"

Sam flashed a smirk. "No promises," she said with an evil chuckle.

"GHOST!" someone screamed. People looked around in confusion, wondering if it was a prank.

A small green blob-like creature, about the size of a fist, was hovering in the middle of the building, desperately flapping its stubby wings to stay aloft. It had one red eye that took up most of its 'face' and was flicking its attention all over like it was looking for something.

Danny's gaze zeroed in on the tiny thing. _'Why does it bother flapping? It's a ghost, it can float without them.'_ He tensed slightly. If the tiny spectre made any move towards Sam then he wanted to be ready to defend her.

It suddenly swooped towards a young couple that had yet to vacate their table. The tiny spook emitted a shriek that forced the couple to clap their hands over their ears and screw their eyes shut in pain. With the humans out of commission for the moment the ghost took the opportunity to hover close to the girl and bite the air next to her neck.

"It isn't touching her. What's it doing, sucking thin air?" Tucker asked after he peeked over the back of his seat.

Danny's eyes began to glow a faint green as he focused on the ghost. Now with his vision enhanced by his ghostly powers, he could see slight wisps of a dark purple-black smoky substance being sucked from the girl straight into the ghost's maw.

"It looks like it's feeding, but on what?" Sam added.

"I think it's feeding on her fear, ma'am," Danny answered, still watching the spectacle.

Sam and Tucker both turned to face him and gasped when they saw his eyes. It was creepy and a bit unnerving to see someone's eyes glow, let alone glow a different colour.

"How do you know that?" she asked warily. Did this half-ghost boy feed on emotions? Judging from the way he had been demolishing the fries it seemed unlikely, but was his ghost half different?

Danny picked up on her tone but decided to puzzle over it later. "I can see this dark wispy substance it's sucking off her. She's starting to slump like she's tired from feeling mentally or emotionally drained. I can't think of what else it could be, ma'am," he answered.

"Whoa..." Tucker said, stunned.

"Do all ghosts feed on emotions?" asked Sam.

Danny shook his head although his gaze never wavered from the spook. "No, it's mostly the animalistic ones that feed off emotions – usually fear. Any ghost sentient enough to speak more often than not acquires its power from fulfilment of its obsession."

The gothic girl wasn't sure what to make of his answer. Did that mean Danny had an obsession? If he did, what was it and how did he fulfil it? She shoved the questions aside for the moment. "Can you stop it?" she asked him. Sam didn't know the girl being attacked, but she couldn't just sit there and watch.

"Yes, ma'am, I can," Danny said. He fell silent, waiting somewhat expectantly.

It took Sam a couple of seconds to catch on. "Danny, I want you to stop that ghost!" she said firmly.

"Yes, ma'am!" he replied with the barest hint of a grin. He lifted his right hand and aimed his pointer finger at the ghost like a gun. Without any warning, a green and white light appeared at the tip before blasting towards the ghost like a laser beam.

The beam hit the tiny spectre, sending it tumbling back almost eight feet. It let out an angry and pained shriek, forcing the few people that were still inside to clap their hands over their ears. Its big red eye swivelled around frantically before coming to rest on Danny. Its gaze narrowed and it shrieked again, shooting forwards much faster than one would think.

Danny ducked just in time – he felt the spook's slipstream ruffle his black hair. His eyes, which had faded back to sky blue, now blazed glowing green as he glared at the ghost's back.

It quickly swung around for another pass and spotted Sam. It grinned and veered to one side, opening its mouth and aiming for Sam's neck.

Sam's eyes widened and she ducked her head, instinctively curling and putting her arms over her head to protect her neck. She shut her eyes and waited for the creature to fly past or try to get past her arms.

Danny, seeing Sam in trouble, growled. His eyes brightened until the glow was almost yellow. With a rage-filled shout he lifted a hand and fired a ray of ectoplasmic energy.

The ray was larger than the ghost and hit it full force, driving it an inch deep into the wall. The spook fell to the floor. It lay there for a moment before it gave out a half-hearted cry and vanished into wisps.

Danny slowly lowered his smoking hand. "Are you okay? It didn't get you, did it?" he asked Sam, checking her over with his eyes as he didn't have the nerve to lay a hand on her without her express permission.

"No, it didn't get me, I'm fine," she said while quickly uncurling herself. She crossed her arms and frowned, daring either of the boys to argue with her. "Thanks," she said after several seconds, her eyes flitting briefly to Danny.

Tucker raised an eyebrow but stayed silent. There was no way he was going to dispute Sam's tough girl image at the moment. He could tell that if he opened his mouth, Sam's combat boots would come into play.

"Let's get out of here," she said, shooing both boys out of their seats. On an impulse she grabbed Danny's unfinished packet of fries and the three teens made a quick, silent exit. Once they were a couple of blocks away Sam handed the fries to Danny, all but shoving them into his hands and pulling back, leaving him no time to protest in any way.

"Ma'am…?"

"There's no reason you can't finish your fries," Sam said with a shrug.

Danny ducked his head. "Thank you, ma'am." As soon as Sam and Tucker turned their attention from him he started eating the fries one by one, uncaring that they were growing colder.

The three walked in silence for a while until Tucker read the time aloud from his handheld computer. "Whoa, I was supposed to help Mum! I have to go help her in the kitchen or she'll raid my room for my tech! I hope you've had your daily dose of sanity 'cause I gotta get goin'."

Sam put a finger to her chin as if she was seriously weighing up his words. "Yeah, I guess so, but you better not be busy tomorrow after school," she said with a mock glare.

"Nah, I'm free," he said with a smile. "Catch you tomorrow morning!" He walked quicker though didn't jog, turning his torso around just far enough to wave a quick goodbye before he disappeared around a corner.

Sam let loose a disgruntled sigh as her shoulders slumped. "I guess we should head back before they notice I'm gone," she said in a sour and resigned tone. She spun around and headed for a street that would take her very close to home.

Danny followed her automatically. He raised a brow as she ducked into a lengthy alleyway and shifted a step or two closer. Alleys were a huge risk – everyone knew that. All slaves took a special training course on dealing with any unpleasant situations that may arise from wandering down one of these backstreets. Danny kept his head bowed, but his eyes were constantly roving and scanning, just waiting for some unsavoury character to jump out and confront his new mistress.

Sam glanced sideways at her slave. "Don't worry, nothing's ever happened here," she said reassuringly. "Relax a little."

'_That's what they all say,'_ he thought, nodding in an effort to appease Sam. He let his shoulders slump deceptively, though he was as tense as a coiled snake. They walked slowly down the alley, each echoing footfall sounding too loud to Danny's strained senses. To his great surprise they exited the alley without incident.

"There, see? What did I tell you," Sam said a trifle smugly.

Danny maintained his silence but nodded, keeping up his sweeping vigil though he let his muscles relax. They reached Sam's house without any trouble and he scaled the trellis first at her insistence. He waited on the roof until Sam joined him and opened her window with barely a creak. The two teenagers ducked through the window and Sam shut it behind her, just as quietly as she opened it, the almost silent house giving no indication that their impromptu absence had been noticed.

The sun was starting to sink, tinting the sky a brilliant mix of blue, dusty purple and yellow. Sam flopped down heavily on her bed, locking her hands together and stretching her arms above her head. She eyed the half-ghost cautiously as he stood inconspicuously in one corner with his back against the wall like a guard dog.

"I don't suppose my parents gave you a room to yourself?" she asked awkwardly.

"No ma'am. It's my duty to guard the Manson property starting from twenty-two hundred hours until seven hundred hours," he promptly replied.

Sam's eyes widened. _"What?"_ she spluttered. "When do you sleep if you're guarding me all day and the house all night?!"

"I am allowed up to six rest breaks during each shift, each exactly fifteen minutes in duration," he rattled off in a dead tone.

"That's not sleep!" Sam exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air and waving her hands about in agitation.

Danny bowed his head. "I apologise for being unable to answer your question," he said with a tiny internal wince. _'This is it; she'll take her anger out on me.'_

"Ooh, I hate my parents…!" she growled out, grabbing fistfuls of her bedding and attempting to puncture it with her lilac-painted fingernails. After several moments and deep breaths she calmed down and released her death grip. She glanced sideways at her clock. "Ten is still a fair way off. Did you want a shower or something? I think I have some old boy's t-shirts and stuff I used to wear to bed if you want to try some on?"

The slave shook his head swiftly. "Oh no, ma'am, I couldn't."

Deciding that arguing was useless, the goth started rummaging through her drawers and wardrobe, plucking a few things out and tossing them roughly behind her onto the large bed. When she had amassed a small pile she shut her drawers and inspected what she had gathered. With a satisfied nod she bundled them all up into her arms and handed them to her completely bewildered slave.

"Here, take these. I want you to go have a shower and try them on afterwards. You can keep whatever fits you. Do you know where the bathroom is?" she asked.

"No ma'am," he replied a little belatedly. "I had planned to familiarise myself with the building's layout on my first shift tonight." With his head still bowed, he was staring directly at the clothes he now held, his mind busily trying to figure out any hidden motives behind the gesture.

"I guess I'll give you a head start," Sam said with a soft sigh. "Come on then." The girl led the way out of the room and down the hallway, stopping at the second door on her right. She opened it and walked in, the half-ghost right behind her.

The youngest Manson stood in front of the shower with her arms loosely folded. "Here you are. Take all the time you want – enjoy the hot water. If you need anything, let me know, okay? Oh, don't touch this; it's my mother's and no one else is allowed to use it," she added, pointing to a pastel pink floral-patterned bottle.

"Yes, ma'am," the slave dutifully replied. Without further ado he pulled his rumpled t-shirt over his head.

Sam's eyes automatically fell upon his bare chest. He was thin, which was to be expected, but he was lean rather than skinny. He had some muscle definition – not over the top, but enough to betray the fact that he obviously worked out. He was not scrawny or a big football-obsessed jock. She felt herself blush bright red and she hastily turned away just as he was about to reach for his pants.

"I'll, er, l-leave you to it then," she stammered out. Sam all but ran for the door, almost slamming it shut behind her in haste. It took some willpower, but she forced herself to _walk_ back to her room. Once there her blush faded as she thought of something.

'_He didn't even hesitate to undress! Do they beat modesty out of them or is it just him? I don't want him whipping off his shirt like that again, even though the view was great-'_

Sam groaned and threw herself face down on her bed. This slave thing was bad enough; she didn't need his good looks thrown into the mix.

"What am I gonna do at school?" came a muffled moan from the sheets.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Yeah, the whole 'keep chapters shorter to update quicker' strategy seems like a total failure. I'm so sorry! I've been beyond busy working on an MMO(RPG?) game with a friend. It's just us two working for the most part so most of my time goes into that. There's a link in my profile if you want to check it out.

I am _so glad_ I finally got this finished. I got stuck at one point for quite a while. ^^; A _HUGE_ thank you to **Kree Minory** for helping me out! I might not have finished this for another year without your wonderful help~

I did say there'd be a bit of action. I have my own theories concerning the ghosts (sentient or otherwise) of Danny Phantom. I'm always up for a discussion if you're interested. ;) Constructive criticism is always appreciated!

~FantomoDrako


	4. When Slaves Get Schooled

**Recap:**

"I'll, er, l-leave you to it then," she stammered out. Sam all but ran for the door, almost slamming it shut behind her in haste. It took some willpower, but she forced herself to _walk_ back to her room. Once there her blush faded as she thought of something.

'_He didn't even hesitate to undress! Do they beat modesty out of them or is it just him? I don't want him whipping off his shirt like that again, even though the view was great-'_

Sam groaned and threw herself face down on her bed. This slave thing was bad enough; she didn't need his good looks thrown into the mix.

"What am I gonna do at school?" came a muffled moan from the sheets.

**Disclaimer:** Oh, if I was as talented as Butch Hartman… I'm still waiting for Danny Phantom to hit Australia on DVD, but considering it took them 10 years to get Invader Zim here…

"Speech"

'_Thoughts'_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four: When Slaves Get Schooled<strong>

The building was quiet, apart from the clocks, and dark. It was lit only by the tiny amount of moonlight the waning moon provided and the silvery-white glow of Danny's ghostly aura. The light from his floating form was a dead giveaway for any would-be thieves to pinpoint his position. This thought caused the slave to frown.

The half-ghost faded from the visible plane, his aura turning invisible as well. The light level in the hallway instantly dimmed, prompting Danny to use his ghostly power to boost his night vision. The boost was not very big, but it helped; making the outlines of furniture and doorways clear.

Danny checked every room and hallway thoroughly, sticking his head and shoulders through walls and doors. He was careful not to let the temperature drop noticeably in each room, especially when he found the room belonging to Mr and Mrs Mason. It was quiet work, though not dull as his senses were on full alert the entire time so as not to miss anything.

He found Sam's room and looked in, electric green eyes scanning the room's interior. They inevitably fell on the sleeping form under the plush covers.

His mind flashed to the Nasty Burger. His charge had been attacked on his first day of duty…

It was part of his duty to report such things to Sam's parents. He would never disregard his duty, but he felt a certain…hesitance regarding this report. Danny was no stranger to returning to the slave pens, but he didn't enjoy it there. Not that slaves were supposed to enjoy anything anyway. He was sure they would not look upon his first day favourably.

With a wince he couldn't quite hide, despite being invisible, he withdrew from Sam's room.

* * *

><p>The night passed uneventfully and he patiently waited for the occupants to awaken as the sun crested the horizon. The dawn heralded Danny's return to the visible plane and he let his invisibility fall with a small sigh of relief. It didn't take much power to turn invisible, but holding the power caused more drain the longer it was held.<p>

"_I can see your feet, you pathetic excuse for ectoplasmic garbage!" roared the top ghost slave trainer of Amity Park. He sneered. "What, did you think that just because you bleed red sometimes that I'd go easier on you than the other ecto-slaves? Put some effort into it you snivelling little freak!"_

_The Ecto-Electro Whip flashed out with a sizzling hiss, leaving a thin line of green liquid on the young slave's cheek that began to ooze down. The slave's whole body flickered into visibility, shocked at how the slave master had struck him so accurately despite not being able to see his target._

"_I said your feet!" the slave master bellowed. "Instead I can see all of you! What, are you deaf now? It wouldn't surprise me, a defective worm like you… Well clean your ears out and listen real good, wretch. I want you invisible…ALL OF YOU…until I say so. GOT IT?!"_

_The small half-ghost slave, barely older than four years, nodded fearfully and gave a small sniffle, trying with all his might not to cry. The mean man did not like crying… Ignoring the green blood trickling down his neck, he scrunched his eyes shut in concentration and poured almost all of his remaining spectral power into fading out of sight._

"_Guess you're not deaf after all. Lucky for you, filthy little brat. It would have greatly decreased your market value. And don't flinch!" he suddenly yelled, cracking the whip around his ears several times._

Danny shook his head sharply to one side in an effort to fling the memory back into the deep recesses of his mind where it couldn't disturb him bar in his dreams. _'The training may have been tough, but it was necessary,'_ he reminded himself, not for the first time.

According to guard duty protocol, the slave, when his duty shift was over, was to move in front of the main door to the house or the foyer if there was one. Without any indication of what was on his mind Danny floated to the lavishly decorated foyer on the Manson dwelling and landed lightly on his feet.

_Ghost Slave Rule Number 5:_ Unless you are physically unable to manifest feet, you must stay on the ground. Floating and hovering tends to unnerve people, so only do so when ordered or performing a basic slave task that requires the ability.

While waiting for the denizens to rouse themselves and greet the new day, Danny found his thoughts wandering to Sam and the strange way she viewed the world. _'She rebels not only against her parents, but against the very way the world works. Society runs on masters and slaves, how can she not see and accept that? Her distorted view affects her relationship with her parents. There is nothing to be gained from it, so why does she persist? Is that an ulterior reason her parents assigned her a slave guard? To get her to accept the ways things are?'_

Danny took a deep breath, ignoring the fact that his ghost half did not require oxygen. His mind raced through everything he had learned of the Manson family so far. Contrary to what most people would think Danny was not an unintelligent individual. The only education he had received was slave training, but his mind was fast and agile. He didn't know much more than basic math and English, enough to get by in most situations, but he could put things together and act on them in the blink of an eye. He was a good study of people, which greatly helped.

It was still definitely early days with this family, but he guessed that Pamela Manson would be the first down, shortly followed by her husband Jeremy as they both seemed like cheery morning people. Considering the lengths Sam went to avoid being like her parents she would most likely stay in bed, or at least her room, for a while after her parents.

The half-ghost wondered if they had a scheduled breakfast time and when, or if, he would be fed. He was glad he was in ghost mode as his stomach couldn't rumble and the feeling of hunger was easier to ignore until the lack of energy drained him of too much power and he reverted to human.

Danny's musings were interrupted by footsteps echoing on the floor above. They were headed for the stairs and it didn't take long until Mrs Manson walked into view. She spotted him almost instantly and descended the stairs towards him somewhat stiffly.

"Anything to report?" she asked brusquely as she stopped directly in front of him, looming over the slave with a look of distaste wrinkling her nose slightly.

"Yes ma'am," Danny replied, keeping his eyes on the ground in front of her feet. "The guard duties performed last night revealed nothing suspicious and proceeded quietly and smoothly. Yesterday afternoon, a small errant ghost, which had attacked several people, went after your daughter."

The woman gasped, one hand flying to her mouth, the other to hover over her heart.

"The ghost did not touch her, nor did it hurt her in any way. As soon as it flew a safe distance from your daughter, I fired at it and it disappeared into wisps. I apologise for the slowness of my actions."

Pamela moved like a striking cobra – the hand at her mouth suddenly impacted with the side of Danny's face in a stinging slap. "How dare you let her be in any danger at all! You incompetent fool! I'll decide whether or not she was hurt when I see her. Watch yourself, slave. And change back to human, your hair offends me with its outrageous colour!" she snapped. With a deft twist on her heels, the woman stalked off to the kitchen without waiting to see her orders carried out.

The slave straightened up and reached deep within himself for the feeling of warmth that brought forth his human side. He clutched the blue sphere tightly with his ecto-energy and delved into it, letting the warm blue energy race through the cold green and wash it away, forcing it into the same small sphere, now a vivid green.

The exterior effect of this was a bright ring that circled Danny's waist and split apart vertically as though magnetic forces, once holding them together, now repelled them. His ethereal glow faded and his skin became a normal tone, albeit somewhat paler than most. His clothes changed and his hair, an untouched white, became darkest ebony. His eyes changed from ecto green to pale sky blue.

He shivered for a second before forcing his body under control. He didn't notice the cold as a ghost, but now it was apparent along with his growing hunger.

The sounds of breakfast being prepared drifted to Danny and he wondered if the formidable Mrs Manson had a human slave to clean the house and cook the meals. It seemed unlikely after taking Sam's initial reaction to his presence into account, but he wished to confirm it on his own. He didn't ponder on it long as Mr Manson sauntered down the second story hallway with a cheerful grin plastered on his face. The grin slipped a bit as he came near Danny.

"Have you seen my wife?" he asked.

"Yes sir. I gave her my report and she left through the second doorway on the left," he answered, examining the man's fuzzy slippers. They were a pastel blue with an indiscernible embroidered pattern in silver thread.

"Good, good. Stay here boy, we'll call for you after we've finished our breakfast and you can have something to eat. Can't have our guard performing at anywhere below one hundred per cent!" he said with a grin that was a partial grimace. He departed through the indicated door, leaving the slave with his thoughts once more.

Danny felt better after having delivered his report and being assured a meal. He stayed where he was for approximately twenty minutes before Sam Manson appeared at the head of the stairs. He could not identify the expression on her face and wondered about it, just as he wondered about the odd tone of voice she had used at Nasty Burger. She was hard for him to figure out that was for sure.

"Oh, Danny…uh, good morning. What are you doing standing there?" Sam asked when she reached him.

He opened his mouth to answer when she waved a hand and said, "On second thought, I don't wanna know… It's some stupid slave regulation, right?"

"Yes ma'am."

Her light amethyst eyes scanned him from head to foot while he was looking at the floor. "Did you get some sleep? Have you had breakfast yet?"

"Yes ma'am, I got my allotted amount of sleep and Mr Manson has told me that I may have breakfast when he is finished," was the monotone answer.

Sam took a deep breath and paused, as if to say something, but let it out in a sigh. "I think I'll go talk to him," she muttered and strode off to the kitchen. She opened the kitchen door to find both of her parents sitting at a nicely carved wooden table, the last remnants of breakfast on their plates.

"There you are Sammy-kins!" chirped Pamela. The blond woman set a plate of food in front of her daughter and Sam reluctantly wandered to the table and sat down. She picked up a piece of buttered French toast and took a bite, her eyes falling on her father.

"So, Dad, you plan on feeding your precious slave?" she asked with only a tiny hint of anger and sarcasm leaking into her voice.

Her father regarded her with surprise. "But of course, my sweetest! How can he do his job if he's even scrawnier than he already is? I'll give him something after we're done and he can eat it while you both walk to school. Although you know how I feel about you walking… Why don't you let us take you in the car?"

"Because I don't call a limousine a car," she sniped under her breath. Then her father's words hit her. "Wait - school? You're sending him to school with me?" she asked incredulously.

"Why wouldn't we, Sammy?" her mother replied. "He can't guard you from here, can he? He is rather scrawny though…maybe we should order him to follow you invisibly so his appearance doesn't embarrass you. Yes, that sounds good." She nodded to herself.

Before Sam knew it she was marching out the front door with a cute teenage male slave shadowing her every footstep while briskly devouring the apple he held in one hand, a banana clutched in the other. Unlike her he had no backpack and the way he carried himself and kept his eyes lowered, not to mention those strange blue and green metallic bracelets, clearly marked his status. Everyone at school would instantly know that Sam Manson had a slave the second she stepped foot inside the school grounds.

'_Today is going to be one of those days only ten times worse…'_ she thought morosely. Her feet started to drag in a futile attempt to postpone the inevitable. Not even when she was met and joined by Tucker did she smile.

Tucker noticed this straight away, although it was not an uncommon occurrence. What _was_ uncommon was the addition of Danny. Obviously Sam's parents had ordered him to stick by her and she wasn't handling it well. Danny, being a slave, seemed to have no problem, though that was a given.

"Good morning to you too, Sam," he said with a wry grin, expecting and subsequently ignoring the glare she aimed his way. "So, Danny, coming to Casper High, huh?"

The half-ghost observed Tucker's legs through his long black bangs. "Yes sir. I have been ordered to guard Miss Manson and this duty extends to wherever she goes," he replied blandly. His thoughts were nowhere near as bland – he was thinking ahead to what the school would be like.

It would undoubtedly be a large, multi-story building filled with approximately three hundred people or more. There would be multiple doorways on each floor and constant close proximity to at least thirty people at all times. It was a nightmare from a security perspective and Danny's mind immediately began applying itself to find workable solutions to any situation that may arise throughout the day.

What constituted an action on his part? Someone brushing against or bumping into Sam? A derogatory remark? He wished his orders were a bit more specific. He wondered if asking Sam to define such parameters would be a good idea considering her hatred of slave practices. After several seconds Danny decided it was his only option if he didn't want to flounder in the dark.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but I wish to know if there is anything specific you want me to guard you from and which interactions with others are acceptable," he said quietly, mentally kicking himself for interrupting her conversation.

Sam stopped short and both her and Tucker looked back at Danny. "Anything specific? It's not like I'm gonna get attacked at school," she answered with a frown.

"Hey, he can turn us invisible if Dash comes close!" Tucker said enthusiastically.

"Tucker…" Sam said warningly, glaring at him. "I really don't want to order Danny to do anything. You know what I think of the slave system!" She turned to the half-ghost. "Danny, listen…I'm not exactly Little Miss Popular at school and people are always saying stuff to put me down, but ignore it because it doesn't bother me. They just say mean stuff to others to make themselves feel better, understand?"

"Yes ma'am," he answered honestly.

The school was indeed crowded and noisy when they reached the front lawn. Sam went in to avoid the rush when the bell rang and to minimise the risk of anyone seeing Danny yet. What was he going to do while she was in class? Stay by her side or stand at the back of the classroom like a guard dog? _'This is going to be all kinds of awkward,'_ she thought sourly. Anyone else in her shoes would just order the slave to be invisible during class, but she could never do that.

"I see the janitor hasn't cleaned the hallway of trash yet," said an accented female voice from behind. Nasty laughter followed the sentence.

The three turned around to see the most popular girl of Casper High, Paulina Sanchez, and her little entourage of A-List girls.

Sam just smirked. "You're right, it's such a shame he missed you and your stuck-up friends. I'll be sure to let him know you're here so he can sweep up properly."

Paulina scowled and clenched her hands into fists for a moment before she remembered her brand new nail polish and put a hand on her hips instead. "Oh, think you're brave because you've recruited another loser?" she sneered, looking Danny up and down and giving him a dismissive wave. "Hey Dash, there's a loser here who's never seen the inside of a Casper High locker!" she called out.

A blond boy with large shoulders and a sports jacket lumbered up the hallway opposite Paulina and stopped near the three. "Every loser must know the inside of a locker. We can't let you miss out! Consider this your welcome gift!" he said loudly with a smirk before swiftly grabbing Danny by the front of his shirt and stuffing him into an empty open locker.

"Enjoy your present, dweeb!" Dash laughed, slamming the locker shut. He moved off with Paulina and the other girls, their grating laughter echoing down the hall.

"Oh my gosh, Danny, are you okay?" Sam asked, tugging futilely on the locker door.

"I am uninjured," came Danny's muffled voice. "Please stand back, ma'am." He heard footsteps recede and phased through the door. He patted a bit of dust off his shirt and straightened it after becoming tangible once more. The half-ghost could feel their curious eyes on him but he did not look up, his gaze fixed on Sam's combat boots.

"That…was so cool!" Tucker almost squealed. He clapped a hand on the startled slave's shoulder and walked off to his first class.

Sam followed much more quietly. The day had not started out well and she had a feeling it was only going to get worse.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I have no excuse. This is the first chapter of ANY of my stories that I've updated since FEBRUARY. I did have a job January to September though, which was cool even if it seriously cut into my writing time. There's also that online game I mentioned ages back last chapter. I've been doing a lot of work on it. There's a link to the game's site, where you can download the game, on my profile. It's all free, so no worries there. I even wrote backstories!

Still pacing the story. I really don't want to rush but I'm scared of it dragging. Let me know if I'm going _too_ slow, okay? Still, next chapter should be fun. First day of school for Danny! I had planned to have half of this chapter at the school but it…got away from me. Oops?

You'll get glimpses of Danny's past here and there as the story goes on. It'll be tricky though as I don't want those snippets interrupting the story's flow. As always constructive criticism is highly appreciated!

~FantomoDrako


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